They stirred uneasily, drew close their capes, And whispered each to each in awed surprise, Seeing this figure brood along the shapes, World tragedies thick-crowding through his eyes. On either side the ghostly groups drew back In huddled knots, yielding him way and room, Their foolish mouths agape and fallen slack, Their bloodless fingers pointing through the gloom. Still lonely and magnificent in guilt, Splendid in scorn, rapt in a cloudy dream, He paused at last upon the Stygian silt, And raised calm eyes above the angry stream.... Hand in his breast, he stood till Charon came, While Hades hummed with gossip of his name. |